Nothing but a mercenary
by N7Chryo
Summary: It was a simple job for an experienced merc, the kind that pays well with little questions asked. Easy, he'd done it a hundred times over without a hitch. But this time, he makes a stupid mistake and gets himself wrapped up in terrorist plots and secret wars. Whoever said justice was its own reward was obviously on a higher pay grade...
1. Chapter 1

**ummm, hey. not gonna lie to you guy's, iv'e not done anything like this before, so i wouldn't be surprised if people regarded it as utter rubbish. But in the words of that guy from the start of farcry 3, 'there is a first time for everything'. so! sit back, relax, and stare at a screen for the next few minutes! or not... i mean, its your choice, not like i can command you to do anything. i put this down as an M rating because it's gonna feature some coarse language, and hopefully a bit of violent imagery in later chapters, when i get around to them. feel free to leave any suggestions or comments however it is people do that. like I said, i'm knew. cheers!**

 **Nothing but a mercenary**

 **Chapter one**

The cargo hold of the ship creaked with every passing second. Moaning with every wave it stormed through. And it had stormed through many, so much in fact that the concealed passenger hiding in one of the ships many containers started to feel woozy, sick with every second of weightlessness before the vessel would inevitably crash back down onto the water's surface.

"Just my luck" a gruff voice spoke, shattering the silence that had been sustained for the past few days of his voyage. His legs ached from being bent in the cramped space, his spine screamed in discomfort from being hunched for far too long, and his stomach felt like he'd lost a drinking contest with a Vacuo smuggler. Not to mention the crippling cold that chilled his body down to the bone and terrible headache. That settled it, next time; he was travelling first class, no matter how much it would cost him. Or how likely it would be to get noticed for that matter.

With a resounding sigh, the man decided to risk going to the top deck and getting some fresh air, or aka his daily smoke. God knows he could use it; the cargo hold had grown stale from a mixture of the ocean air, strange smell of bananas, and what smelled for some reason like livestock despite being void of life. He should know, he did check to make sure he was alone after all; in his particular line of work you could never be too cautious.

Upon standing up with considerable outcry from his knees, he made his way over to the access stairs, his thick combat boots making a resounding thud on the cold metal floor with every step. Scaling the stairs and another few wrong turns later, he was greeted by the overwhelming freshness of vale's coastal air. He took a few seconds to take it all in, relaxing at the sound of the waves gently lapping, miraculously curing him of any previous encumbrances. With the gloominess of the cargo hold gone, and the sunlight lighting his face, the man's appearance became clear for all to sea. His hard, stone features carved into his face and pale grey eyes gave the illusion of being far older than the grand age of 20, despite his full head of dark blonde hair which suggested otherwise. due to the last few days crammed inside a storage container, he hadn't had time to shave, giving his face a rugged unshaven look that he hoped said 'don't fuck with me', which in reality probably said 'spare any change?'.

"Gotta love that fresh, vale sea air smell" he spoke with a slight smirk, before proceeding to pull a cigarette packet out of the pocket of his form fitting brown leather jacket, and a lighter from his tan cargo pants. Placing a stick of the finest atlas tobacco between his lips, he proceeded to bring his lighter to its end. Thumbing the device, it sparked a few times before seemingly dying on him, leaving him without his daily fix of sweet nicotine.

"Fuck…" he mumbled before tossing the lighter off the bow into the calm waters below. He was gonna be grouchy for the rest of the trip now, however long it would be.

He started pacing backwards and forwards like a caged Beowulf. "I don't care who invented that damn thing, I'm gonna kill the son of a-"

"Need a light?" spoke a smug voice to his right. The man quickly jumped back and got ready to strike the sneaky bastard, raising his fists in a manner similar to a trained soldier, but with a lackluster technique.

The Faunus' reaction was just as instantaneous, but instead of mirroring the man's aggressive stance; he instead raised his hands in a surrender motion. "Whoa! cool it buddy, i ain't gonna hurt you!" the primate Faunus explained before taking a more relaxed pose and letting the smirk back onto his face.

The Faunus wore a white unbuttoned shirt with red gauntlets, showing off his well-defined torso muscles. In addition to this, his shaggy blonde hair and mischievous glint in his eyes spoke volumes about his character. _This guy sure has a high opinion of himself_ thought the man briefly, before focusing on the task at hand.

"We got off to a bad start, how about i introduce myself? That sit alright with you, tough guy?" the Faunus said politely, before holding his tail out offering a handshake. The man reluctantly relaxed his pose and dropped his arms roughly to his sides. _He thinks I'm shaking hands with that thing, he's got another thing coming._

"Cool, the names sun. You know, like the big yellow thing in the sky? It's a pretty easy name to remember." he stated cockily. "You?"

The man sighed for seemingly the thousandth time that day, before leaning against the ship's railing and introducing himself. "Springfield. The names Springfield. Don't ask for my first name. And if you think I'm shaking that thing, you'd better think again, 'buddy'." he replied in kind, using the mock name given to him earlier.

Sun grinned at Springfield's standoffish nature, before retracting his tail out of sight once again. "Hey, i wash! Well, maybe not lately, the life of a stowaway isn't exactly glamorous. Heh"

"Yeah, tell me about it. Wait, what do you mean stowaway?! I checked that damn cargo hold twice!" Springfield exclaimed, radiating disbelief.

As expected, sun smirked once again and tapped his nose with his tail "i have my ways. So! What brings you to vale? The pride of remnant! Known across the land for its beautiful vistas, Faunus terrorist groups, and upcoming vital festival, hmm?" he suddenly slid closer to Springfield, placing an arm around his shoulder and looking around as if being listened in on "Or is it because of the sightseeing if you know what i mean? Eh? Eh?"

Springfield face palmed and sighed simultaneously. "Yes, i get what you mean-"

"I'm talking about girls! Get it!" sun suddenly exclaimed, interrupting the tired man whose headache had coincidently returned. _For the love of god, this guy's annoying!_ He inwardly screamed to himself.

With seemingly little effort, Springfield placed a quick jab to the ape's bare stomach, forcing the Faunus to do a double take and remove his arm from Springfield's shoulder, coughing for a few seconds before regaining his cool composure.

"Ouch, looks like somebody's a bit touchy today" sun examined, coming to the conclusion that it probably wasn't wise to tick this guy off any more than he already had.

Springfield glared at sun for a second, before turning back to the ocean and taking in the city of vale as the ship came into dock. "Yeah well, i haven't had my morning cigarette yet. Speaking of which, you got a lighter or what?" Springfield gruffly remarked before holding his palm out to sun expectantly.

Sun suddenly looked nervous "oh! Well, um i don't actually have one; it was just a snappy conversation starter i came up with. Oops?" he squeaked out quickly, before scratching the back of his head and looking to the floor like there was suddenly something incredibly interesting there. After a few seconds, he glanced back up at Springfield to test the waters, and instantly wished he hadn't. He had a look in his eyes that said _'keep talking monkey boy. See what happens'_

After a few more seconds of silence, sun heard a soft snigger, which soon turned into a chuckle, which in turn evolved into a genuine laugh. This continued on for a good 10 seconds, all the while sun was wondering whether he should laugh along like an old drinking buddy, or start backing away very, very slowly. He chose the third option of giving an unenthusiastic chuckle until Springfield seemed to have calmed down from his seemingly insane laughter fit.

"Yeah, ha ha! So, umm, what's so funny?" sun said unsurely, nervousness radiating from him at a slightly alarming rate.

"It's nothing really. I was just wondering" said Springfield with a knowing glint in his eyes, barely containing his laughter.

"Wondering what?" sun said with dread as the ship came to a stop.

"I was wondering whether those two gentlemen behind you shared your sense of humour" Springfield explained, giving a slight head nod behind sun before chuckling to himself again.

Expecting what was coming, sun turned around, being greeted by the sight of two crewmen wearing grey jackets. One of them smiled to his friend before proceeding to crack his knuckles. Sun looked back at Springfield, who was still leaning against the railing, wearing a grin which looked brutally out of place and terrifying on his face. "Pleasure to meet you, sun. Maybe I'll see you around." and with that, he simply sauntered off, but not before yelling back to the crewmen "theirs your stowaway lads!"

 _I think hate that guy._ Sun thought to himself with a small, perhaps unnoticeable smile, before turning his attention back to the sadistically grinning crewmen. Who seemed to have closed the distance.

 _Yep, i definitely hate him!_

* * *

Springfield watched for a few minutes from the safety of a local cafe whilst sun evaded not only the ships crewmen, but also two officers of the vale PD. sun was like a blur as he sped off the docks and onto the promenade, executing his elaborate escape. He even had time to wink at a pretty black haired girl, before vanishing from sight. Springfield inwardly approved of suns actions. _Good kid, if not a bit cocky._ Springfield thought to himself, then realised he wasn't exactly one to talk.

Springfield shrugged to himself, threw a couple lien on the table, despite his coffee not arriving yet, and left the dockside restaurant to move deeper into vale. Personally, he'd never liked the place. It was always too…

Clean.

That was it. Everywhere had a problem, everywhere had something they wanted to sweep under the rug, a dirty little secret they tried to hide. Well, everywhere except for Vacuo, they had everything out on the table already, and because of that it was known as a 'wretched hive of scum and villainy'. Great place to throw a party though, as long as you didn't mind finding sand in all the wrong places for the next few weeks.

The gruff man spotted a few officers walking in his direction, and decided to take another route, down a back alley which came out next to a store covered in police tape. _Guess that's the problem they're trying to hide._ He thought to himself, pleased at his intuition. It was no secret that vale had been… 'Struggling' for the past few years. Grimm attacks had increased threefold since last year, and the white fang were growing ever more violent with their protests, capturing entire dust shipments, recruiting more members, and even robbing military transports. If Springfield was right, which he usually was, that sounded less like protesting and more like gearing up for war. But of course, that was swept under the rug. Just like always. to make matters worse, or better, depending on whose side you were on, the notorious criminal mastermind roman torchwick was apparently on a crime spree so big that the vale PD were asking for help from hunters. _These guys are a joke._ Thought the leather clad nihilist. _I've done a couple jobs for roman before, but he's isn't THAT good. Smart money is he's getting outside help… but from whom?_

Springfield was about to reach for a cigarette in order to aid him in his pondering; before he realised he was down a lighter. _Wonderful, now i gotta buy another._ He thought with a considerable amount of absence of his smokes, he opted to place his agitated hands in his pockets instead, idly walking in no real direction whilst searching for a general store. He desperately needed a smoke. He'd been hooked on the stuff since Christmas when he was 14. His father grabbed him and then shoved a carton of cigarettes into his hands, screaming 'smoke up Johnny!' this had always confused Springfield though, because his name wasn't Johnny, but he just put it down to one of his father's violent 'episodes'.

He wouldn't be missed.

After another 20 minutes of wandering, Springfield finally found what he was looking for. After a quickly purchasing the last lighter in the stores stock, he stepped outside into the sunny streets of vale, pulling out a stick of his favourite brand and placing it between his lips. "Say what you will about vale" he muttered, smirking and twirling his lighter in his nimble fingers, as he brought it to the end of his cigarette. "But they sure do have some good weather".

'BUZZZZZZZZ'

Shocked by the sudden strange buzzing feeling in the pocket of his cargo pants, Springfield proceeded to fumble with the lighter in his hands, before it fell from his grip. Time seemed to dilate and move agonisingly slowly as he watched the lighter edge ever closer to the solid pavement, before it smashed against the ground with a resounding crack, shattering into a million pieces, much like his soul. He simply stood there in silence for a minute, possibly more as his mind slowly came to grips with the events that just unfolded.

His scroll continued to buzz every few seconds, indicating he had a call. With slow and graceful movements, he gently took the scroll out of his pocket, before accepting the call and holding it up to his ear. He cleared his throat with a small cough, before speaking with enough venom in his words that it would make a Grimm death stalker sting look like an ant bite.

"This had better be important"


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

 **Hey again, thanks for the support and response i've gotten so far, its been great! this next chapter's a bit bigger than the last one, so try to have as much fun reading it as i did writing it! if anybody has any trouble visualizing what exactly the character of Springfield looks like, picture Kellogg from fallout 4, except younger and not bald. or don't, view him in whichever light you want, just have fun reading this chapter! cheers!**

"YOU WANT ME TO DO WHAT?!"

Springfield glanced up from his phone conversation to be met by the image of a fragile old man with an apron looking with pure fright into Springfield's eyes. With noticeable embarrassment on his face Springfield turned away and embraced the veritable darkness of a nearby back alley.

"sorry Adam old buddy but you're gonna have to speak up" Springfield said with sarcasm dripping from his voice "i seem to be going a bit deaf in this ear, because i thought for a second there you said you wanted a hit on Weiss-fucking-schnee! But that would be ridiculous, wouldn't it?!

" _I know you don't want to hear this now, but you DID hear me wrong. I want her alive, got it?"_ Springfield's contact replied with annoyance. It was clear his patience was wearing thin. " _The pay is good and you've done it a hundred times over. This shouldn't be a problem for you; it's a simple jo-"_

"BULLSHIT" Springfield deadpanned, cutting off the caller "you know better than anyone that the schnee are goddamn untouchable, especially with the vytal festival in town. In case you hadn't noticed, general ironwood and the entire fucking atlas fleet are on their way to vale right now! Did you not notice that detail, or were you too busy planning another terrorist attack with your barnyard animal friends?

Springfield's outburst was met with a few seconds of very quiet growling, which would probably shock Springfield if he didn't know exactly who he was dealing with.

" _The 'general' and his fleet won't arrive for another 2 weeks at the very least. And Weiss schnee is a student at beacon, a TEENAGER. She's got no bodyguards, no backup, and no chance against a trained professional. That is what you are, correct? Or am i under the impression that you're scared of a little girl?_ Adam mocked; his growling disappeared and replaced with a low chuckle.

Springfield gripped his scroll tightly, the device creaking and breaking under the pressure of his vice like grip. Springfield channelled as much of his anger into his voice as possible. "Now you listen here you Faunus fuc-"

" _NO YOU LISTEN TO ME!"_ Adam screamed with rage, his patience officially running out. _"You're going to end this call, accept the funds in wiring to your account, kidnap Weiss schnee, and bring her to the warehouse on April Street within the week, or I'll have it so that every fucking contact you know won't want jack shit to do with you. Are we clear?"_

"I don't have to stand here and listen to thi-"

" _ARE WE CLEAR?"_

Springfield held back a vicious remark and bit his tongue, drawing blood whilst his knuckles turned white with pure unbridled rage.

"Crystal" he spat out, specks of his blood spattering the alleyway and bringing a bright crimson to the otherwise dull area.

" _Good"_ said Adam, all signs of his previous rage disappearing into his regular, casual demeanor. _"Warehouse on April, within the week, ALIVE. You can go now. And remember Springfield, we never spoke."_ Adam all but finished the conversation, leaving Springfield to his own devices. As he was about to end the call though, he heard a final and swift remark from his employer. " _Oh, and Springfield? You even think about double crossing me and i won't hesitate to kill you and that little brother of yours you got hiding in Vacuo"_

Springfield's breath was caught in his throat as the call abruptly ended, leaving him standing in the alleyway with his thoughts weighing heavily on him, and one hell of a problem. Springfield slid down the wall until he hit the ground hard, jolting him from his stupor. He sat there in awe and shock for another few minutes, trying to catch and make sense of the millions of thoughts clouding his mind, yet they illusively evaded his grasp. Eventually he broke away from his trance and stood up, bringing a clammy palm to his sore eyes and rubbing them in order to alleviate the stress of the considerably large workload dumped on his lap.

"Fucking great. You've done it this time Springfield. You knew you couldn't trust that Faunus prick the moment you met him, but you did it anyway. Now look where it's got you. You're sitting in an alley talking to yourself with a boatload of problems and no fucking cigarettes." Springfield ranted to nobody, convincing him fully that he had hit rock bottom. He casually lifted his scroll to his face again and checked his recent messages. Adam had stayed true to his word and wired 50,000 lien to his account. _That sly bastard. This is half of my starting price._ Thought Springfield with frustration. He reluctantly accepted the transaction and wired 30,000 of the fee to a private trust fund in the bank of Vacuo, letting his thoughts wander to his home for a few seconds before focusing on the task at hand.

Springfield once again stood up and proceeded to make his way to the end of the alley, pulling up a dossier Adam also sent him on the schnee family, or more specifically, Weiss schnee. ' _the schnee family dust company has held the monopoly in remnant for decades and are the leaders of dust manufacturing for blah blah blah questionable and unethical blah blah blah._ Springfield skimmed through the pages for the next few minutes, barely paying attention and focusing more on the pictures. That is until he arrived at the section on Weiss schnee. _Weiss schnee, heiress to the schnee dust company. Identified by her symbolic stark white clothing and hair, along with a slightly noticeable scar donning her left eye. Is known to maintain an uptight and proud attitude. Possesses a high level skill in combat and excels in the use of a multi action dust rapier held in her left hand. Also has considerable control over her semblance, being glyphs. WARNING. Approach with extreme caution. I advise goading her into a fight through challenging her, let her make the first move. She will undoubtedly believe herself to be flawless, and maintain a false confidence in her abilities which will be her downfall. Watch out for her speed as well, or you'll be impaled on the end of her sword before you can even blink._

Springfield once again folded up his scroll and proceeded to lean against a wall in exhaustion, the bad past couple of nights mixed with the new contract and nicotine withdrawal was most definitely taking its toll on Springfield. He would never admit it, and his outside appearance would undoubtedly refuse to betray him, but inside his mind the seeds of doubt had been planted. He was slowly starting to panic for his own life and the lives of… others he cared about. He hadn't failed a job yet, and this one shouldn't be any different, but he still felt like his cause was hopeless beginning to seem more and more hopeless. What the hell had he dragged himself into? Why the fuck did he falls in with this crowd? How in the name of dust was he supposed to find Weiss schnee, a single girl, in a huge city during the busiest festival of the year?!

"How dare you talk to me like that? I am your teammate!"

…

What.

"You are a judgemental little girl!" a voice replied to the high pitched outcry.

Springfield stood in awe for a few seconds as he watched the scene unfold 50 meters away from his location down the street, seeing the argument between two teenage girls, one of which matched the description of Weiss schnee both by appearance and personality, all down to the scar on her eye. The girl in black arguing with her seemed familiar to him somehow, though the other three clad in a multitude of different coloured clothing left him guessing, though he did note how they observed the argument and stood by awkwardly.

Truth be told, Springfield was only focused on Weiss schnee, the situation finally hitting him like a freight train hauling high quality dust. It took a while for him to regain his senses and the ability to form coherent thought though, not to mention retrieving his jaw from the floor in the aftermath of the Deus ex cliché moment.

"NO WAY" were the only words he could form. "NO FUCKING WAY". He exclaimed at the top of his voice, drawing the attention of the two members of the group awkwardly stood off to the side. _Shit!_ He thought, his mind kicking back into mercenary mode and willing his body to dive behind a nearby park bench. The girls in yellow and red soon turned back to the argument, coming to the conclusion that the sound of a very disturbed man was actually just a trick of the wind.

 _Heh… fooled those two!_ He thought triumphantly for a few seconds before he stopped in his tracks, his mind reeling and nagging him for some reason he couldn't quite place his finger on…

"Who are we hiding from?" said the ginger girl with a pink bow and vibrant green eyes, crouching behind the bench next to Springfield. Springfield immediately clamped his hand over the girl's mouth, effectively silencing her and insuring he remained hidden. The cheerful girl made sounds that sounded similar to something like 'is everything okay?' completely oblivious of the current situation.

 _This day keeps getting weirder and weirder…_ Springfield thought before addressing the girl directly. "Listen lady, i don't know who the hell you are or how the hell you snuck up on me, but you need to understand that I'm trying to not be seen here, okay? That means if I'm gonna move my hand, you need to be quiet! Got it?" this line of questioning was received by an enthusiastic nodding from the girl.

"Okay then…" Springfield said unsurely, but nevertheless removing his hand, allowing the girl to speak once again. This was met with silence for a few seconds, perhaps even more, the entire time the girl just sat their staring with lifeless eyes into Springfield's soul. He shivered inwardly before beginning another line of questioning.

"So… what the hell are you doing?" Springfield asked, unsure of the reply he was going to be met with.

"Hiding!" the girl replied like it was the simplest thing in the world.

"Yeah, i can see that, but why are you hiding here with me?"

The girl stared for another few seconds as if she was processing the information. "That's an excellent question!" she exclaimed, once again. Once she saw that this response was met with a bewildered response from Springfield, she decided to change the subject.

"I'm penny! What's your name?" she asked politely. Springfield started to get the idea that this woman may have a few screws loose in her head for whatever reason, and came to the conclusion that getting away from her as fast as possible was the best plan in this situation.

"Well, penny, is it alright if you… go? it's just that I'm sort of in the middle of something…" Springfield said with the calmest voice he could muster, suggestion lining his tone.

"What are you in the middle of?"

 _Wow, this girl can't take a hint… okay let's try a different approach…_ "Listen 'penny', you see those girls over their-"

Springfield gazed back to where the girls were holding their debate, only to be met with an empty street. A Small tumbleweed rolled past him, solidifying the cliché moment in his mind. shock was quickly replaced with frustration as he turned around to fling his hate at penny, who was nowhere to be seen.

Springfield struck the bench in frustration and anger, splintering the wood and bruising his knuckles in the process.

"Damn it... "He sighed, sitting back and allowing the pain of a missed opportunity wash over him. _'Great work Springfield. Really, FANTASTIC effort! Tell me, were you going to get the jump on that schnee girl before or after she walked away?'_ said Springfield's self-loathing and sarcastic alter ego.

"Yeah, well, at least I'm a real person" Springfield countered. ' _Yeah, a real person who's listening AND talking to the voices in his head. Don't worry; i hear vale's pretty accepting of crazy people.'_

"yeah… okay I'm just gonna stop talking to myself for now, how about that?" Springfield concluded, before climbing to his feet and walking in the direction he suspected the group of leaving in. the voices in his head gave one last squeak of refusal before being shut off for the time being. _'You can silence me but you can't silence the truth-'_

with the comfortable silence Springfield was met with, and the realisation that he had absolutely no clue where the schnee girl went, Springfield opened up his scroll again, and begun to filter through his contact list.

"Let's see here… one eyed joe? Actually, i don't think he likes me since i stabbed him in the eye… hey, Caesar's still around! Wait a second… did i sleep with his sister? Only one way to find out…" he trailed off before going into the contact details and phoning up his old acquaintances number. After a few rings the call was accepted.

"YOU'VE GOT A LOT OF NERVE CALLING ME AFTER WH-" Springfield hastily ended the call on realisation that he probably did sleep with Caesar's sister. In his defence, it wasn't his fault… the voices in his head made him do it.

Through continued analysis of his contact list, Springfield realised he's screwed over at least everyone in vale at least twice, maybe three times. _'Hmmm… probably not the best business plan, but then again, i kill people for a living, so who cares?'_ Springfield pondered, before stopping his browsing suddenly. A small glint appeared in his eyes as he hovered over the contact details.

"Bingo"

* * *

Springfield waltzed into the nightclub with a spring in his step and a gun in his pocket, strolling in like he owned the place. Barging his way through the twin doors, two unfortunate souls who were previously standing by the entrance soon found they unconscious on the floor. _'oops'_ thought Springfield briefly, before quickly losing interest and walking to the top of the stairs which gave a perfect view of the currently empty dance floor, and the club's owner who was seemingly preoccupied talking to a few men in black suits and red ties.

"Junior!" Springfield exclaimed cheerfully, arms out to his sides as if asking for a hug and a grin on his face as if meeting an old friend after a long absence.

"CRAP!" Junior busted out, jumping back a few steps before his henchmen formed a makeshift barricade between the two acquaintances. "Keep him away from me!" junior ordered, before placing himself behind two young girls. The henchmen appeared to be a bit apprehensive about this tactical decision, a few even being as bold to shake their heads and sigh. Springfield could have sworn he heard one person mutter _'not again'_ under his breath.

' _Looks like somebody gets beaten up a lot…'_ thought the mercenary casually, before clearing his throat and using his world famous and masterful negotiation skills.

"Junior old buddy! How's it going? I like what you've done with the place! Wha- is that a new haircut?" Springfield asked cheerfully, pacing back and forth and feigning over the top interest in his surroundings. It didn't take long for the club owner to build up the courage and respond to Springfield's delightful nature with a tone that radiated uncertainty.

"What do you want Springfield?" he asked suspiciously. "The last time you were here, i needed a complete renovation. And i HATE dealing with contractors!" junior stated with a stone cold glare and accusatory tone.

"Hey, I'm not the one who decided to pull out his goddamn rocket launcher and shoot the place up! Seriously, if there's anyone to blame, it should be you!" Springfield retorted, pointing a finger at junior in defence, who scoffed and shook his head.

"You haven't changed one bit. You still can't accept blame, can you? This is why Caesar and Malone don't talk to you anymore!" Junior shot back, dredging up some of Springfield's old memories.

"Malone? I haven't spoken to him in years! What's he been up to lately anyway?" Springfield asked with genuine curiosity. Junior looked at Springfield with and expression of pure disbelief on his face.

"YOU SET HIM ON FIRE! AT THE CAFE! REMEMBER?!" Junior screamed in desperation, a hint of insanity glistening in his eyes. Springfield pondered that thought for a moment before his memories recalled his old events.

"Oh yeah… guess we know why his nickname was matches, right?" Springfield shrugged carelessly, before realising there was a job to do and he wasn't here for a trip down memory lane and idle banter.

"Anyway Xiong, I'm gonna need a favour. I need some info on some-"

"NO! That's what you said last time, and now the doctor says i have to take these pills every time i feel stressed! I ain't giving you nothin' Springfield! So you can just see yourself out, or my boys here will give you a helping hand!" Junior interrupted. His statement was met with little enthusiasm from his henchmen, who seemed to be tiring of the common occurrence of talented individuals with big guns walking in and knocking them down like bowling pins.

"Junior." Springfield said suddenly, his tone turning from his casual, if not cheerful state to a darker more serious note, effectively dropping the temperature of the room a few degrees. "Don't be an idiot, remember what happened the last time you made a decision like that?" Springfield deadpanned, his right slowly and gracefully inching behind his waist without anybody noticing.

"Of course i remember! I was their! I just brought that up!" junior screamed in rage, his patience finally dropping. "That's it! Get him boys! I want him out of here!" junior's orders were met with little movement from the henchmen, the defacto leader of which spoke up on behalf of the others. "Ummm, boss? Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean he looks pretty tough…" The Hench trailed off, examining Springfield's casual demeanour once again.

"Are you kidding me!? He's just a merc! He doesn't even have an aura! Just deal with him!" Junior stated before making a tactical retreat behind the DJ table, the twin girls acting as his personal bodyguards and last line of defence. Upon hearing that their target wasn't some hunter in training or teenage girl who was an expert in some form of martial art, the Henches started to feel better about their chances, quickly surrounding him in a ring, cutting off all exits to the dancefloor. A few of them even grinned; pleased at the idea they might win a fight for once.

It almost made Springfield feel a pang of pity and regret for what he was about to do.

Almost.

Quicker than any of the men could comprehend, Springfield unholstered his signature weapon, his pride and joy which he could not travel anywhere without; his battle scarred revolver, equipped with a comfort grip and Bull barrel for executing those pesky targets. He called her Victoria, named after his first girlfriend. A fitting name he thought, because it was pretty to look at, but could take your head off in the blink of an eye. As he brought his weapon up, he spun the barrel at a lightning fast speed, the frequency of the clicks steadily becoming slower and slower, during this time, the henchmen were froze in anticipation, fear, perhaps wonder until the chamber came to a gentle stop.

 _Click_

As soon as the chamber came to a halt, Springfield dashed forwards to the nearest goon, who almost couldn't comprehend the events unfolding in front of him. Springfield waited until he was a few meters away from the Hench before he dropped into a slide, racing between his legs and taking out his shins in the process, the man's face had a quick introduction to the floor, breaking a few of his teeth. Not allowing any time to rest, Springfield was back of his feet and racing towards his next target. Unfortunately, by now the rest of the henchmen had awaken from their stupor and responded to the threat, charging forwards blindly with swords in hands and magazines in pistols.

Those with melee weapons quickly made a move to flank and surround Springfield, not allowing any breathing room. Ironically, Springfield then launched a quick jab into his second targets windpipe, crushing it and sending the man to the floor writhing in pain. A Hench brought his sword down in a vertical strike, hoping to catch the merc in the skull and bring the fight to an abrupt end. seeing this coming, Springfield simply sidestepped the strike before launching two quick left jabs to the Hench's chest, finishing him off with a right hook to the jaw which sent him flying into one of his buddies, the sword spinning in the air for a few seconds before Springfield gracefully jumped and caught it, before bringing the melee weapon crashing down on an unfortunate goon, who barely had enough time to block the strike.

Amazed by his luck, the Hench decided to test it further, moving on the advance and pushing Springfield back a few steps, forcing him to keep his guard up. The ranged men from earlier saw this as a good time to start shooting, peppering the area around the two combatants with dust infused bullets. ' _with those ridiculous glasses on, I'm not surprised they can't hit anythin-'_ thought Springfield, before being interrupted as the man he was fighting suddenly found a rather large gaping hole in his jugular, shock adorning his face as he fell to the floor, choking on his blood and trying to limit the flow from his neck, clamping his hands down as hard as he could. Glancing over to the ranged Henches, he saw the others had stopped shooting and came to stare at a nervous man among their ranks, holding a smoking gun in his heavily shaking hands.

Not one to waste and opportunity, Springfield extended his arm fully, his revolver resting comfortably in his grip, as he brought the small sights perpendicular to his vision. Squeezing the trigger slowly, he savoured the powerful kickback which made his arm fly backwards quite a few inches, barely maintaining control of the raging bull rearing its ugly head. He savoured the sight of the nervous team-killers chest exploding outwards even more as his hollow point round found its way across the dance floor to the victim's heart. Not wasting any time, he indiscriminately continued picking off the remaining shooters one by one, twirling and dodging gracefully as bullets whizzed and cracked past the air around him, a few even coming so close as to graze his skin and rip the very outer layers of his jacket. In a few seconds, all 5 of the original shooters were lying on the floor in various states of disrepair, some had wounding shots and a good chance of survival, and other didn't have a snowball's chance in hell or were already dead.

In his admiration of his handy work, Springfield very barely missed the baseball bat swinging from the edges of his peripheral vision, twisting his body away from the weapon at the last second, taking the blow to the ribs and not the skull, which would have surely knocked him unconscious. Springfield crashed to the ground, which only worked to amplify the pain he was already feeling from his cracked ribs. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his collar as the baseball bat goon flipped him onto his stomach, a foot quickly found itself clamped down on Springfield's neck, the pressure increasing swiftly as he found it harder and harder to breathe. Springfield struggled which was met with little reward, hands clamping around the Henches boot in futility. The Hench grinned like a madman, before gripping his baseball bat like a golf club and lining up a swing to the merc's temple.

"BATTER UP!" he shouted, laughing like a madman as he started his swing, the weapon quickly descending and following its predetermined path. Suddenly the bat fell from the Henches hand, and the foot loosened from Springfield's neck as the goon staggered back, holding his slowly bleeding chest, the crimson of his blood disguised by the red tie. The goon's eyes rolled back into his head as he fell backwards onto the dance floor. Springfield spun his smoking revolver around in his hand before bringing it to his mouth and blowing the slight smoke trail away from the barrel in the most cliché move imaginable. He was suddenly very glad he had that extra shot in the chamber. ' _Damn that guy needs to think of better lines to say before he kills people'_ Springfield briefly considered before examining the carnage.

The rest of the henchmen with swords were either tending to their wounded friends, the ones that would live anyway, or retreating and simply fleeing out of the club. Three men brought up the courage to stand in the way of Springfield and his quarry, all charging at once this time instead of one at a time. _'Impressive, they actually learned something'_ he thought briefly before counter charging. The two parties maintained eye contact the entire time, until Springfield made his move about 5 meters away from the group.

"Catch!" he suddenly yelled, flinging his revolver into the air. The helpless goons could help but stare, one of them letting instincts take over and reaching out to grasp the weapon as it descended into his waiting hands. This distraction gave Springfield enough time to close the distance to the guy who caught his six-shooter, jumping into the air and bringing his knees to his chest in what looked like crouching mid-air. As soon as his boots met with the Henches chest, Springfield extended his legs with as much force as he could exert, springing off leaping backwards, rolling back to his feet. The Hench wasn't so lucky, as he was sent flying back at a ridiculous speed, crashing into a pillar next to the dance floor and hospitalizing him for the next few weeks. Springfield's revolver spun though the air like the moon, glistening in the lights of the club before it gracefully landed in his hand with seemingly little effort.

Unimpressed by his antics, goon number two struck, swinging from left to right with no real strategy, hoping to catch the man with a lucky shot. Springfield dodged two of the swings, and when it came time for a third he maneuvererd his way inside the henchman's guard, grabbing him by the wrist painfully and forcing him to the drop the sword. Springfield then launched a quick kick to the henches leg, dropping him down on one knee, where Springfield twisted his revolver in his hands, grabbing it by the barrel and backhanding the Hench with the butt of his pistol, hitting him square in the forehead and hopefully giving him a concussion.

The final swordsman played his hand much more cautiously, realising that charging in with no real idea was likely a good way to get you killed. The two circled each other, carefully examining each other's movements and footing. In a move unexpected, Springfield placed his handgun back in his holster, instead holding up his glove covered fists in anticipation. Seeing an easy opportunity arising, the Hench leaped forwards, slashing his sword in a diagonal motion. Anticipating this, Springfield brought his left forearm up, holding the Henches wrist at bay and effectively stopping the attack. With his right hand employing seemingly lighting speed, Springfield unsheathed his combat knife in his boot, promptly thrusting it forcefully in the man's abdomen, all the way up to the hilt. The man dropped his weapon, choking in pain as it clattered on the floor. Adding insult to injury quite literally, the merc twisted his knife inside the wound, the goon nearly passing out from the pain in protest.

Now, being one to never leave a job unfinished, Springfield proceeded to place a leg on the Henches hip; kicking back with force at the same time he pulled his knife from the wound, effectively gutting the man and creating a gash along his stomach, sending him crashing to the floor. Springfield then crouched over the soon to be corpse and wiped his serrated blade on the shirt, effectively cleaning the blade. Springfield sheathed the blade swiftly, and then noticed that he seemed to have a rather noticeable blood splattering on his jacket. Fortunately or unfortunately, it wasn't his own.

"This was my best top dammit!" he quickly exclaimed in a brief flash of annoyance, before glaring daggers at junior, whose thugs seemed to now be either dead or fleeing in fear. Not breaking eye contact, he once again brought out his pistol, opening the chamber and emptying the spent shells, before slowly placing new rounds in, one after the other. To occupy his time during this, he brought back the idle banter between himself and junior.

"So, are you willing to talk, or you just going to hide behind a bunch of thugs again?" Springfield asked casually, gauging junior's attitude and mood from his facial expression. The fact that juniors face was soon adorned with an infuriated frown did not bode too well for the merc.

"You always were a stubborn bastard!" he yelled in an accusatory tone. "Malachite! Melanie! deal with him!" he ordered, the twins clad in red and white rolling their eyes before gracefully walking towards Springfield, who had finished loading his weapon, and swiftly pulled out his knife again, holding it in a reversed position in his left hand, before sighing when he realised that he was going to have to beat up two young women.

"Wait one second!" Springfield suddenly exclaimed arms up and hands out in a move that begged the two girls to stop. Shocked by the turn of events, they complied warily, junior could only look on with a flabbergasted expression adorning his bearded face. "Okay, hear me out; he sends a bunch of grown men to fight me, who promptly die, so his backup plan is to send twin girls to beat me up?! i mean, i don't know about you, but if i worked for him, i think I'd just take an early retirement because this guy obviously doesn't care about his subordinates, or even the sanctity of human life! Am i right?" Springfield explained, adorning his rugged smile also, attempting to charm the girls.

"Wha- don't listen to him!" junior exclaimed desperately, but was met with a hand from the girl in white, motioning for Springfield to explain further. Seeing his opportunity to close the deal, the merc hit his point home.

"well, two intelligent and attractive young women such as yourselves should be doing something more productive with your time instead of getting into fights in a bar because some fat guy with a beard tells you too…" this statement was met by a quick counter from junior, who was seemingly becoming more annoyed by the second.

"For your information, it's not a bar! It's a NIGHTCLUB! And secondly, i can lose weight anytime i want!" junior screamed in frustration, defending his livelihood when he should have been trying to convince his subordinates to turn the cocky murderer into a mutilated mess of flesh. Springfield always found twins creepy for some reason, and the fact that they rolled their eyes in unison only sent more shivers down his spine. The girl in white spoke up first, seemingly making a decision.

"Whatever. I need to go put another coat on my nails. come on militia, let's let junior fight his own battles for a change" said the girl in white, gracefully walking off the dance floor and further into the club, her sister at her side.

Juniors look of shock was quickly replaced by one of fear, as he realised he was without anybody else to protect him. Springfield's eyes glinted in joy and a smirk slowly creeped across his face, as he made his way purposefully towards the defenceless nightclub owner.

"Come on junior, old buddy!" he sarcastically stated. "Let's have a little chat…"

 **oooh, cliffhanger am i right? whats gonna happen?! Nobody knows... except me, and you if you want! just leave any suggestions or thoughts about what direction the story should be going in and i'll consider them and get back to you through the power of private messaging! see you guys next time!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey-oh! Hows everybody doing? really? That's great. keep it up! Anyway, here's the new chapter. our protagonist is going to get involved with team RWBY and more of the internal politics in the next chapter, so I'll wrap up his current going on's here. speaking of Team RWBY, your guys seen the latest episode? that got... Grimm. :D Anyway, moving on from terrible puns, I've decided to be a bit cheeky this chapter and sneak a couple references and easter eggs in, 4 to be precise. whoever finds them and messages me the answers, or leaves them in a review first gets a cameo next chapter which would make stan lee jealous. enjoy and cheers!**

 **Chapter 3**

"I swear that's all i know!" junior exclaimed for what must have been the 20th time. he was effectively shut up by a powerful backhand from a very annoyed mercenary, spinning the office chair junior was attached to around in a 360, before being stopped by Springfield's iron grip.

"Talk like a bitch, get slapped like a bitch. Come on junior, I'm not asking for a lot, just info. Is that too much to ask?" Springfield said patronizingly, before giving the hostage his sad puppy dog eyes.

This treatment had been going on for a few hours now in the secluded back office of juniors club. The individual being interrogated found himself tied to an office chair with very little in the way of leverage. Knowing Springfield, junior was pretty sure the mercenary wouldn't leave until he'd been satisfied at the very least. This was proving to be a problem for junior however, as he was struggling to produce information on the schnee girl, whether deliberately or through no fault of his own, Springfield couldn't tell. So, being a reasonable man, he chose to respond to this by beating the information out of junior.

For a very long time.

"I swear! I've already told you everything i know! if you give me a few days, i can speak to my contacts an-" Juniors pleas became lodged in his throat, suddenly losing his small reserves of courage as Springfield pulled out his revolver and removed five of the six chambered bullets, before spinning the chamber and slotting it back into the firearm with a simple flick of his wrist. He didn't lose eye contact with junior the entire time.

"Junior my bearded friend, let me level with you" Springfield reasoned, crouching to junior's level and placing the barrel of the gun against his hostage's crotch. Junior pressed further into the chair, his breath hitching in his throat as he tried to move himself as far away from the firearm as possible.

"Now, because of your little gang and their hijinks, I'm suffering from a few cracked ribs. as you can imagine, it hurts like fuck, and the longer i go without medical attention, the more pissed off and angry I'm gonna get. Do we understand each other?" Springfield finished his gaze boring holes into junior's eye sockets. The only response he could give was a quick, nearly unperceivable nod, the small twitch being the only movement his body would allow. Springfield's mouth grew into a cocky smirk, yet his pistol hand remained in the same position.

"Great. Now, tell me the future whereabouts of Weiss schnee" he said with little to no hint of patience.

Junior racked his brain desperately for a few seconds, trying to think of anything that could make the crazy guy with a gun back off. "Ummm, i-" Springfield suddenly pulled the trigger to the gun, the chamber clicking empty and juniors eyes widening in fright and shock.

"I swear to GOD junior, if the next words out of your fucking mouth are 'i don't know' you're gonna have to say goodbye to 'junior'." Spat out the merc, nodding his head towards the hostage's crotch and hearing a small squeak in confirmation.

"Ummm, there's a new schnee mine opening up outside vale! She might-"

 _Click_ went the revolver; another chamber confirmed it was vacant. Junior swore at himself on the inside, thinking desperately for any new information.

"The, umm, the vytal festival!" he exclaimed in joy "she's bound to make an appearance in a few wee-"

Juniors answer was met with two, resounding clicks this time, signalling that Springfield was significantly dissatisfied with the answer. Internally, junior was screaming, begging, and crying, all at the same time. Externally, his brow held more sweat droplets than if he was in a rainstorm, his heart was beating at a mile a minute, and bile was quickly rising in his throat. _Fuck, think THINK!_ Junior screamed in his head.

"I, I don't-"

 _Click_

"THERE'S A DUST SHIPMENT COMING IN AT THE DOCKS TOMORROW NIGHT! TORCHWICK AND THE WHITE FANG ARE GONNA BE THERE!" junior screamed, tears' forming in his eyes, his breath coming out in quick gasps as he prayed his answer was good enough for the psycho to leave him alone. Springfield sat in silence for a few seconds, maybe more as he maintained eye contact with his victim.

 _Click_

"OH GOD, NO!" junior screamed, before he realised that there was no gunshot, and that his genitals were still in one piece. Junior mumbled out his answer, fear still gripping his body. "But... you-"

"What, you thought i would actually load it? Who the hell do you take me for" Springfield said with his arms out and a cocky grin on his face. Junior let this answer settle in for a few seconds before rage overtook his entire form

"YOU PRICK! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!?" junior yelled, his emotions unable to handle the sudden 180 and resorting to a mixture of confusion and anger. Springfield put away his pistol and nonchalantly started checking his nails, as if he were a teenage girl uninterested in conversation.

"Hey, you brought that on yourself! Maybe next time you should just talk to me and give me what i need instead of hiding behind your bodyguards. Hey, speaking of which, what the hell is up with those twin girls?" Springfield suddenly asked, a curious expression littering his face.

Junior let his shocked expression be replaced by a cocky grin, raising his eyebrows in a suggestive manner. "Heh heh… i keep em' around for the scenery if you get what I'm saying…" junior winked suggestively.

The expression was swiftly wiped off his face however, as the grip of Springfield's pistol met juniors cheekbone at a ludicrous speed. A resounding crack could be heard even by the henchmen outside the office picking themselves up off the floor. Junior let out a scream and hunched over, enraged by the fact that his bound arms meant he could not clutch his face in agony. Springfield leaned over and grabbed him by the hair, looking him straight in the eye with a bored and slightly disgusted expression.

"Junior… they're like 15! What are, 30?!" Springfield yelled, before backhanding the thug again, on the already broken cheekbone this time. Junior screamed in pain once again.

"OOWW! Hey! For the record, I'm 28!" junior defended, before realising his words fell on deaf ears. Springfield had clearly lost interest and was preparing to leave.

"Hey... wait! Where are you going! You can't just leave me tied up like this!" junior begged, struggling against his restraints.

"Yes i can junior, it's quite simple. And for the record, I'm going to the docks." junior lost all sense of pain and looked in confusion at his captor.

"Wait, the docks? Why there? besides, if you wanted schnee then why not just go to beacon?" junior asked in wonder, soon wishing he had kept quiet when Springfield turned around and looked at him with a tired yet pissed off expression.

"Seriously?" Springfield asked in annoyance, making it seem like the answer to Xiong's question was simple. "Maybe you're right! Maybe i should go grab schnee whilst she's at beacon, a combat boarding school that trains hundreds of hunters and is filled with some of the most deadly individuals known to man. What could go wrong?" the merc patronized sarcastically, before giving an irritated look in the club owners direction.

"I'll see you around Xiong. Can't wait for the next time we meet." Springfield said with mediocre effort, before strolling out of the nightclub in a similar fashion to how he walked in.

Junior leaned against his bonds and sighed heavily, hoping that one of his men would eventually come in and untie him.

"I'm gonna need more bodyguards…"

* * *

This was it. This was where he wasn't going to take no for an answer. He'd had enough of peoples shit today, he was going to find torchwick and call in a couple favours, get the info he needed. Or, he was gonna beat it out of him. Springfield put the latter down as plan B, but it was pretty likely that the roman wouldn't give up his secrets with a click of Springfield's fingers. To a criminal like roman, knowledge was power, and he respected it more than materialistic things.

Thoughts along these lines rushed through the merc's head as he made his way to the outskirts of the vale city docks. Cutting a way through the rusty chain link fence, he walked around the docks area for a few minutes, acclimatizing himself with the surroundings. The shipping containers formed what was akin to a maze around him, providing many spots to hide and ambush, or of course providing an area which was difficult to escape. Realizing the shipment wouldn't come for another few hours, Springfield made his way over to one of the containers, before cracking it open and finding a comfortable position inside for which to wait. He would wait until roman and his white fang lackeys showed up, then burst out and take the place by surprise, weeding info out of roman and questioning him relentlessly. Nobody would expect him. NOBODY expected the Springfield inquisition.

All he had to do was stay awake for a few hours, which after the first 30 minutes started to become a difficult task. Springfield found his eyelids slowly beginning to shut, his past few days of nicotine withdrawal, sleepless nights, and the recent bruising of a few ribs started to take its toll on the mercenary. _Crap…_ was Springfield's last thought, before he drifted off into an uncomfortable sleep.

"NOBODY MOVE"

 _Aahhhhh!_ Springfield's mind screamed, his body responding moments later as he woke up with a jump, launching to his feet in the confined and cold shipping container _. Where am i- oh shit!_ the mercenary thought, quickly coming to the realization that there was more than likely a dust heist going on just outside. Placing his ear against the containers door cautiously, he tried to hear what was going on outside, but could only comprehend muffled voices. One of them feminine, the other more masculine, but still pretty feminine.

 _Torchwick..._ he thought. He could tell that cocky voice from a mile off. Coming to the conclusion that he could still take torchwick by surprise, he pulled out his revolver in one hand and his knife in the other, before kicking the door down with incredible force and firing a shot into the air.

"NOBODY EXPECTS THE SPRINGFIELD INQUIS-" Springfield screamed as a war cry, before realising he'd just walked in on a hostage situation. A girl in black was holding a sword up against romans throat, and was surrounded by numerous white fang members pointing their guns at roman and the girls. A shocked and flabbergasted expression adorned everybody's face, most notably roman, as he was the one who actually recognised the man. Perhaps because of this, he was the first to recover from his stupor, giving him time to formulate a quick plan. Everybody had turned their heads to the recent intruder, giving roman the perfect opportunity to shoot his cane into the floor and send the girl in black flying back a few feet, which then sprinted off behind a few containers, dodging romans explosives in the process and losing her enemies line of sight. _Probably running so she can get her senses together and fight back,_ thought Springfield. Or he would have thought this, had his thoughts not been interrupted by the white fang soldiers now pointing their weapons at him.

Roman took a combat pose and ordered his men to do the same, forming a perimeter and scanning the area for when she would jump out again, effectively ignoring the mercenary. Springfield saw this as a perfect opportunity to bring up his first and foremost order of business. "Roman! Old buddy, how've you been? Is that a ne-"

"Save the shit Springfield. I know you want information from yours truly, and to be honest I'm willing to give it to you, on the condition that you help me get out of this situation alive and unharmed. Deal?" roman interrupted, before quickly stating his bargain and getting back to the task at hand, not even sparing the mercenary a look. Springfield shrugged and started scanning the area for the girl.

"Deal. Though i gotta ask, she's one girl, what the hell is she gonna d-"

His sentence was brought to a quick close as a banana peel landed on his head, shocking the merc. Looking up, he was greeted by the sight of sun leaping above him, clearly having the time of his life.

"I've got the monkey, you get the girl" Springfield ordered, deciding on payback for the annoying behaviour of the ape and the headaches caused over the past few days. roman had no quarrels with this arrangement, and took a few of his men to find the girl in black, whilst the rest stayed with Springfield, deciding that he was the unofficial second in command of this operation.

Sun landed a few meters in front of the mercenary, as a few white fang soldiers dropped down from a hovering bullhead, surrounding the Faunus. He met Springfield's gaze with a look that was clearly meant to kill, before spitting his disgust in the man's direction.

"You traitor, leave her alone!" sun shouted with venom, making a few of the white fang soldiers look between the two men with curiosity to what caused such anger. Springfield simply sighed, before striking a more aggressive stance and holding up his pistol.

"What made you think we were on the same side sun? It's nothing personal, just business..." Springfield taunted with a shit eating grin adorning his face. Suddenly, the merc's smile faltered for a brief second, that voice in his head that usually said insane stuff became the rational side. _Why are you working with torchwick? He's a criminal_ … regret flashed through the merc's mind for a second, before he purged those thoughts from his head; he was a merc for dusts sake. He didn't care for politics or opinions, he wasn't encumbered with a sense of right or wrong, he was fighting for a pay check.

And it was time to earn some money.

Springfield fired, bullet after bullet hitting the Faunus' staff as sun deflected every single shot, before turning his attention to the white fang soldiers, and started dispatching them with grace.

 _Shit!_ Thought Springfield, as he reloaded his pistol and examined the fight before him, the ape Faunus fought with a ridiculous amount of agility, taking care of the white fang soldiers by expending little to no effort. Springfield wasn't really a betting man, but if he were, he wouldn't put too much money on himself in this fight…

Sun launched himself at Springfield, the two acquaintances becoming two enemies as they became wrapped in a battle for control. Sun mostly kept on the offensive, keeping the merc on the back foot as he barely avoided each swing and thrust launched by the Faunus. Sun went in for a leg sweep but feinted, bringing his staff up and striking Springfield in the jaw, launching him off his feet and onto his back.

The merc quickly rolled back to his feet before sun could capitalize on the opportunity, firing a quick round hoping to catch the Faunus off guard. Sun barely blocked the shot, taking a step back in the process. Springfield saw the opportunity and took it, jumping forwards and stabbing with his knife, hoping to gut sun and finish the fight quickly. Using his godly agility, sun dodged the strike at the last nanosecond, then somehow collapsed his staff into a pair of twin nun chucks and hit a flawless strike on the merc's now overextended head, the nun chuck cracking into his skull and sending the merc flying to the ground.

Springfield lied there for a second, absorbing the horrible pain to his head that he was feeling, and thinking harder than he ever had in his life. He examined the situation, and suffices it to say, it didn't look good.

Springfield was outmatched in every single way, by speed, agility, strength judging from the ape's abs, and by weapons. Sun could strike from a distance and trump Springfield's knife, or even go close range and win out from the pure speed and power of his nun chucks. Not to mention the Faunus had an aura, a shield that protected him from conventional damage. And to top it all off, Springfield was suffering from his earlier rib injury and a mild concussion from the two strikes to the head so far. There were, however, two categories he beat Sun in; intelligence…

And fighting dirty.

Springfield jumped to his feet, flinging a fistful of dirt into suns unsuspecting eyes. Taken by surprise, he turned around in an attempt to avoid the fistful of dirt, but made the mistake of turning his back to the mercenary. with no way to see his next attack, Springfield jumped back, putting some distance between the Faunus, before unloading the rest of his chamber into the apes back, sending him flying to the floor from the sheer force, smacking into the rough dirt with a resounding thud. not allowing him any chance to counterattack, Springfield flung his knife at one of suns nun chucks, sending it flying out of his grasp and a few meters away.

Believing he had the advantage, and that sun had no ranged capability, Springfield sprinted toward the Faunus picking himself up, hoping to catch him off balance and finish him off. Suns remaining nun chuck however converted into a firearm, and when Springfield realised this mid-way through his charge, it was too late to dodge.

The small dust infused round hit Springfield in the shoulder, and with no aura to protect him, it pierced his jacket and shirt, continuing through his flesh, glancing off the bone and out the other side. Springfield's charge was halted, hitting the ground at his top running speed, cursing and swearing in agony at the newfound pain. It wasn't the first time he'd taken a bullet, but it wasn't as if the pain had gotten any easier. Sun seemed unaware of just how much damage he had caused. Perhaps he didn't trust Springfield after the last trick he had pulled. Maybe he was didn't know that Springfield had no aura, and the bullet caused significant pain.

Or maybe he did in fact know all this, but was so fuelled by his rage that he put it aside and ignored it for a few seconds, jumping on Springfield's battered body and laying blow after blow into the merc. On reflex, he raised his hands to cover his head; leaving his bruised ribs open for suns punches.

After the first few blows, spring fields mind registered the pain, and instantly decided that Springfield was faced with two choices; lie down and let sun win, or beat the living crap out of this Faunus fuck. Springfield let his right arm fall from his face, and launched the most powerful punch he could throw against Suns chin, launching the Faunus 20 feet to the left, straight into a shipping container and undoubtedly breaking a few of his knuckles. With more anger and venom than he knew he could muster, he looked sun's dazed form in the eyes and screamed through his teeth.

"GET YOUR STINKING PAWS OFF ME YOU DAMN DIRTY APE!" Springfield mustered, his cry freezing sun in place through sheer shock, even as the merc closed the distance and launched a powerful kick to the Faunus' temple, his combat boots connected and knocked Sun unconscious in a swift but near fatal kick. Or it would have been, if not for Sun's aura protecting him.

Springfield was about to observe the situation around him and decide on whether he could handle another fight or should just cut his losses and run, when he barely dodged out of the way of a bullhead airship barrelling toward the ground and exploding, the blast knocking him off his feet and onto his back. The mercenary groaned before realising he'd answered his own question, and was about to make his way over to the remaining bullhead when he made eye contact with roman, wearing a cocky smirk and waving as Springfield's only chance of salvation took off and started to fly away.

The final bullhead departed, leaving Springfield on the docks alone with… "Penny?!" Springfield shouted suddenly, surprised to see the strange girl from earlier present in the current situation. He was about to follow up this line of thoughts with a line of questions, before the black haired girl from earlier and a girl in red come to penny's side. And then they saw sun.

Against the cargo container

Unconscious.

And the merc who was helping torchwick earlier was the only one in sight.

 _Great work. Again_ said the voice in Springfield's head as a blur of read and a few rose petals were the last things he saw before blackness took over.

 **Wow! how's our dashing anti-hero going to talk his way out of this one? only I know... but I'm still open to suggestions. thanks for all the views and support I've been given so far, It's all appreciated. see you next chapter!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey again everybody! new chapter has arrived, and it's arrived in style! at least, I think it has, it's probably just a regular chapter. remember above all to have fun reading this, if not for you guys I wouldn't be writing it in the first place anyway! enjoy and cheers!**

 **chapter 4**

Springfield sat in the chair inside an interrogation room of the vale police headquarters, half heartedly struggling against the handcuffs holding his arms behind the seat. He grumbled a few words and mumbled in mild annoyance at the circumstances, waiting for an officer to come through the door, spout a bunch of bullshit questions for an hour or two, before realising he wasn't gonna learn anything and leave the merc in a cell for the night. well, that was what usually happened anyway. maybe they stepped up their game? He briefly wondered.

Springfield levelled his gaze at the one-way glass, his reflection staring back at him in distaste. his eyes were sagged, his hair disheveled, and his stubble had grew even more, the beginnings of a beard showed on his face. _i look like a mess_ he thought, hanging his head in shame and wondering what the hell he was doing with his life to be double crossed and stuck in a police station, again. honestly, this was becoming a regular occurrence.

what was really annoying Springfield was the fact that it wasn't the cops who actually caught him. if that were the case, he would have been mildly irritated, then resign to the fact that these guys probably gave it their best to take him down, and were looking down at him in disgust. which was fine, because at least then he knew the cops were pissed off at him, and it was fun making the police angry. but right now, they were likely sat there behind that glass, laughing along and drinking coffee because springfield got beat up in a fight by some teenagers.

some goddamn teenagers.

Now, as a semi-refined man in his line of work, springfield had came to hold some grudges against certain people. the rich, the over privileged, generally anyone who was 'better than him'. it was an unspoken rule that springfield didn't trust anyone who made more than him. so when a couple of hormonal teenagers from beacon 'academy' decide to flaunt their skills and flare their auras in his face before beating him, the guy who had to fight for everything, it sorta pissed him of a tiny bit. or a fair amount. okay, it really annoyed him a lot.

sprigfields toughts of how many ways he could beat up a hunter in training were interrupted by an officer dressed in a suit walked into the interrogation room, with a folder in one hand and a cofee in the other. he dropped the files on springfields side of the table before placing down his coffe and hanging his blazer ona nearby rack, showing off his holster and resulting gun, attempting to display his power as he leaned on the table with both hands, chosing not to sit down.

unfortunately for the officer, it wasn't working.

"my names detective blythe, vale PD. you got quite a rapsheet their buddy, enough to put you away for a long time. that is, unless you can help us out" the detective implied heavily, a smirk adorning his face as he gestured to the file. springfield gave the detective a bored expression before looking down at the papers, seeing various pictures of him in his most recent crime, and a couple from the last time he was in vale a few weeks ago. Springfield sighed and met the detectives smug eyes. _he thinks he's already got this. well, might as well have a little fun._ he smirked inwardly, before deciding to speak.

"you're doing it wrong" said springfield simply, before looking around the room as if he had something more important to look at.

"huh?" the detective mumbled, confusion adorning his face for a brief moment before he suppressed it and restored his attempt at a confident facade. "why dont you tell me what im getting wrong then buddy? because i'm dying to hear it." the detective said, lacing his words with sarcastic curiosity. springfield met his eyes again, explaining his statement.

"you got me sat in the wrong place, now you've gotta crane our neck every time somebody else enters the room, instead of me. it's a small part of this whole 'asserting dominance' thing you got going on, even though, and forgive me for saying this, it's failing miserably." springfield leaned forward over the desk, fixing the silenced detective with a cocky grin and charming smirk. "you may not notice this, but i've already won. i know how interrogations go, did my own last night ironically. and to tell you the truth, your ain't gonna get anything outta me. you wanna know why? because unlike me, you can't hold that little pea shooter up against my balls till i sing like a canary." springfield finished his tirade. leaning back in his chair, he crossed his feet over the table and closed his eyes as if he were trying to catch 40 winks.

the detectives previous confidence had vanished, replaced with a clearly irritated expression similair to if he were suffering froma rash near his unmentionables. which for all springfield knew he might be. the officer slammed his hands down on the table in a method to startle the merc, succeeding in making him open an eye in faked curiosity. "listen here, your up to your neck in this shit kid! i can easily put this evidence in front of a jury and see if your smiling when you are getting nailed for aiding a known fugitive and terrorist organisation! but since im a nice guy, i can see if we can work something out, mabye even half your sentence, but only ifm you can give me something, speciffically the names of a few people. we clear?" the detective finished. his patience was clearly close to running dry, springfield noted, if his annoyed monobrow and forehead vein were to be trusted anyway.

 _time to finish him off_ springfield thought, smirking inwardly, before putting his mediocre acting skills to good use. the merc sighed, opening his eyes, and removing his feet from the table, before putting a look of mild worry on his face, glancing at the door as if expecting someone to walk in. noticing the change, the detectives hopes started rising like a flag on the day of the vytal festival. "its anonymous right? if i tell you who im working for, nobody will know i squeald, right?" springfiled rushed out, glancing at the door again.

pleasure lined the detectives features as he removed his notebook and sat in the chair, leaning forward to hear the merc. "dont worry, we'll make sure nobody finds out. now, whos the higher up? who's torchwick working for?" the detective asked, a hint of desperation on his voice. springfield looked around for a final tim before leaning in and speaking ina hushed tone.

"im working for vincent" he whispered. "the guys name is vincent" the detective hurriedly scribbled this down, clearly pleased he'd gotten though the mercs cocky facade and gotten something useful. he was gonna be the talk of the sation for this. the cop pushed further. "vincent who? i need a full name."

springfield could barely hold back the grin on his face, as he leaned back and decided to put the detective out of his unknowing misery. "vincent… van go fuck yourself". springfield finished, before chuckling to himself and reclining even further into his chair. it took a few seconds for the detective to realise the ruse before all excitement in his persona was replaced with rage, shooting out of his chair and reaching his arms across the desk as if to strangle springfield. "You filthy criminal sc-"

"thats enough, detective." a new voice spoke, this one calm yet authoritative. surprised at the new voice, the detective jumped in shock before craning his neck. springfield piped up. "you wouldn't have been so shocked if i was in the other chair. just sayin'". the detective looked back at springfield in anger, then swung his head back to the new arrival with a pleading look on his face. "sir, if i had another few minutes i can-"

"i think your done for tonight detective. go home, be with your family. i'll handle it from here." the man spoke, stepping out of the way of the door and letting the tired detective leave.

"see you later blythe! add me on scroll-chat! or whatever the hell kids use these days…" springfield shouted after him, the detective slamming the door with considerable force and leaving the the merc alone with the new arrival. now that detective killjoy was gone, he could pay attention to the mans features.

his hair was white, leaning on grey. he couldn't tell whether it was his natural colour or he was getting old. he guessed at the previous, considering the guy didn't look or sound older than 40. a small pair of spectacles adorned his narrow eyes, which contrary to what springfield previously thought made the man look more threatening, as if he were analyzing all his weak spots, deciding on a way to kill him. his neck was shielded by a deep green scarf, and the the rest of his attire consisted of a snappy black suit. springfield near instantaneously knew to watch his tongue around this guy and lower his annoyance levels by about 15%. he didn't look like the joking type. springfield decided to nickname him glasses, on account of his… well, you get the picture.

the man strolled up to the desk, sitting down in the seat opposite the merc and crossing his leg over the other. just as springfiled though he was about to speak, the man instead took a deep swig of his coffee, maintaining eye contact with the merc at all times. finally, he seemed content with his caffeine intake and struck up conversation.

"the detective wasn't lying you know" he spoke, his voice leaked confidence, but also something else. wisdom, maybe? it was like he knew something springfield didn't, which the mercenary didn't like one bit. "you do have quite the 'rap sheet'. born in mistral to a martha and nathaniel springfield, a nurse and a dust miner. the former dying in childbirth to a brother 7 years later, and the latter meeting his end during a cave in after a faulty blasting cap blocked off the exit." glasses glanced up, examining springfields solid facade, the merc not allowing himself to let any form of emotion slip. he continued with his analysis, pouring over more records.

"you at 10 years old and your brother at three years old found your way into the mistral city orphanage, before another child was reportedly stabbed in the throat after bullying your younger sibling." the man stopped at this, looking up and commenting on the event. "a bit severe dont you think?"

springfield shrugged in reply. "he lived, didn't he? whats severe about that?" glasses said nothing before looking down again, perusing the file with seemingly no change in behavior.

"seeing it best to handle your situation delicately, you were shipped of to the atlesian school for troubled youths at the age of 12, where you didn't see your brother for... how long, three years?" the man in green enquired, fixing springfield with a curious gaze.

"four". he mumbled, gesturing for ozpin to continue.

"you spend the next few years at the military school, infamous for its harsh disciplinary methods and training regimes, where you are reported to have excelled in all classes, both theoretical and practical, but are also said to greatly lack when it comes 'following orders' and 'listening to your superiors.' fours years later, you reach the age of 16 and apply to join the atlas academy, though are refused due to both your history in prior education and life, but also the fact that you failed to activate your aura"

"i didn't 'fail' to activate one. there was just jack shit there." springfield grumbled. Glasses noted this and continued with his assessment.

"upon rejection, you reportedly joined the atlesian military at the young age of 16, where you were noted as a candidate for vindicator training in the atlesian special forces." the man in green said these last few lines with a barely recognizeable sigh, which springfield barely noticed.

"your not a fan of atlas' army?" springfield inquired, asking glasses a question for a change. the man in question let a small smirk fall across his face, before muttering "something along those lines" and continuing.

"after two years, on your 18th birthday, you reportedly went AWOL, apparently killing your commanding officer and escaping into the atlesian snowlands, evading capture for 5 weeks before the search was called off and you were suspected of dying to either a grimm attack or exposure." Glasses took another sip of his coffee at this, motioning for springfield to further explain his case.

"the CO was a prick, some little douche who had a daddy high up in the hierarchy who got him a cushy job as a lieutenant. the sadistic bastard didnt know jackshit about leading a company and saw us as his little toy soldiers, making our lives a living hell. I took it for around 1 and a half years, and as soon as I hit 18, I walked straight into the officers mess and caved his head in with his own set of golf clubs. pretty fucking satisfying if you ask me" springfield reported, before smiling ad chuckling to himself at the memories. glasses gave a look which springfield couldnt identify before finishing off the file.

"shortly after, your brother went missing from his school in mistral, and you've been spotted in numerous locations around all four kingdoms, racking up numerous charges and crimes from local authorities. most common of which is kidnapping and assault, if not murder. in the brief two years since your 18th birthday, you are said to be one of the best in your line of work and are known simply by your second name because, and here's the confusing part, your first name has been wiped off all records, both digital and physical, including your birth certificate, armed forces registration, and all school records." the man in green interlocked his fingers and stared strongly at the merc, as if trying to see into his soul.

"you're certainly a quick learner, though what i'm more focused on is the fact that you managed to defeat a student of shade academy in combat with no formal hunter training, no aura, and no melee weapon, instead resorting to your fists." the man in glasses deadpanned, surprising springfield. he simply shrugged in reply, and gave an expression which he hoped said 'it was no big deal' before replying.

"from what i've learned, it's not about how quickly your finish a guy, or what moves, skill and techniques you use. it's more of an achievement to take him down and make him stay down, make them REALLY regret fucking with you." springfield spat, offering his words of wisdom to the man who had too much to count.

"hmmm, i've never quite heard it explained like that, but i suppose you are right in your own regard. minus the language, of course. but, where are my manners, i haven't yet introduced myself. my name is professor ozpin, i'm the current headmaster of beacon academy."

springfield feigned boredom, acting calm, collected, and uninterested. on the inside, he was beginning to panic at the realization that one of the most powerful men in remnant was taking an interest in him. using the lessons he was taught in his vindicator training about interrogation tactics, the merc managed to calm his nerves and continue the conversation.

"a beacon professor, all the way down from his high horse to speak to little old me? im honoured. no, wait, what's the word? that's it, suspicious." springfield countered, not quite sure where ozpin was going with this game. funnily enough, the man in question saw this as high time to reveal said plan.

"i won't beat around the bush any longer then. To put it bluntly, the world as we know it is in danger. grimm attacks increase, terrorism is rampant, and i fear that during this vytal tournament at beacon, hidden players in this game will reveal themselves. battle lines will be drawn, alliances will be formed, and the fate of remnant will be decided." ozpin deadpanned, somehow maintaining the same look on his face, no emotion slipping out as his eyes examined the mercenaries reaction.

springfield took a few seconds to let ozpin's speech sink in, attempting to comprehend exactly what the professor was hinting at. "okay... you don't waste time do you? so you think that there's gonna be some attack or something during the tournament? were in a time of peace, that makes no sense." ozpin acknowledged this reply, slipping a small hip flask from the inside of his jacket and livening up his beverage, taking a long sip.

"not an attack, a war. Mr springfield, you of all people should know that everything can change in an instant. peace is merely a phrase we fling around in the hopes of keeping the general populace sedated, asleep to the chaos that is the truth." ozpin sighed once again, for the first time breaking his eye contact and staring into his coffe mug as if it had answers to his questions. " I don't enjoy it, but it must be done" he finished. one thing was still bugging Springfield though.

"wait, if all of what your saying is the truth, then why are you telling me? i'm not stupid enough to know i'm not the most reliable bank for your figurative wealth of information, what with being a criminal and all". springfield stated, narrowing his eyes in an attempt to understand ozpin's reasoning. the professor simply smirked and met his eyes once again.

"simply put, i would like to hire you mr springfield" ozpin explained bluntly, his words shocking the merc. if he'd been drinking from something, he likely would have spat it all over the man he was in deep conversation with.

"you want to hire… me? are you serious?!" springfield exclaimed, suspicion and curiosity dominating his tone, picking his words carefully. "most of my clients are… less than reputable we'll say. you seem a bit too clean for my services if you catch my meaning." springfield hinted, being met with a hint of a chuckle from ozpin.

"i belive you to be perfect for the job i have in mind. how about i explain it, then we negotiate the pay. that is how these transactions go, yes?" ozpin asked. springfield was generally curious as to whether this ozpin guy was asking a legitimate question, but nevertheless nodded for him to continue with his explanation of the job. ozpin smiled and took the opportunity.

"we are hosting the vytal festival, and as a result, our schools doors are open, the entire atlas fleet is nearly upon us, and some of the best young hunters and huntresses in training will be fighting for the masses to see. the eyes of remnant will be upon us, and because of this, we have everything out on the table. our cards are visible to the enemy, nothing we have is hidden. we are like a goliath waiting for an attack at any time from anywhere from anything, and we know nothing about it. in summary, we have no trump cards." ozpin stated, and then locked eyes with springfield. "except for you." if the merc wasn't paying attention before, he was now, ozpin's stare waking him up more than any coffee could.

"because you are, undoubtedly, one of the best and youngest in your field. you will have the element of surprise. you will need to masquerade as a student of vacuo, visiting for the festival, building a detailed cover story whilst spying on the other students. i fear the enemy may attempt an infiltration of their own. your job will be to uncover any plots and foil them, or at the very least sabotage them before they even occur. this mission will be of the utmost importance. the fate of our very world may rest upon your shoulders" ozpin further explained, relaxing and taking another sip of his coffee. springfield wondered how he had any left, though discarded the thought and brought up his next point.

"so… how much pay are we talking?" springfield replied.

"well, the reward is me not walking out of this interrogation room and handing over all of your files to the right people, ensuring you are imprisoned for the rest of your lifetime. along with the knowledge that you saved the world of course." ozpin stated, no hint of humour or mirth in his voice as springfield's heart dropped. ozpin quickly added to his speech however.

"and… whilst i cannot move any funds from the school budget to pay you for your services, what with the festival expenses keeping us cash strapped, i can help you in another way." ozpin hinted, resulting in springfield raising an eyebrow in confusion, quickly and hastily replying.

"look, umm ozpin i'm flattered and all but i'm not into tha-"

"i was referring to pulling a few strings and landing your brother a place in signal, and a guaranteed place in beacon after that. considering of course, your efforts to stop any plots are successful." ozpin explained, a slight smirk playing on his face after seeing springfields stone cold demeanor melt away in an instant.

"will he be… safe? like if someone was after him… could they get to him?" springfield asked hesitantly, believing the offer too good to be true. there had to be a catch. there was always a catch. the threat adam made was still very real in the back of his mind.

ozpin nodded understandingly, with a simple movement of his head he erased all of springfields doubts and fears. "we will give him a new identity, a new home. he will be safe their and perhaps even grow up to become a successfull hunter. i will personally make sure of it. he may even find some time to have visits from his brother." ozpin suggested.

springfield didnt need to think about the offer, he didnt need to negotiate for some actual pay, or threatan the headmaster into a better deal. he didnt need to lay on the charisma or pretend that he was some stone cold killer working for the pay check in order to assure his client he was money well spent. because the truth was, ozpin had already made him an offer he couldnt refurse.

"ozpin, i accept your offer. i would shake your hand and everything, but, well... " springfield trailed off, shaking the handcuffs slightly and brining attention to the fact that he was still subdued. this brought forth a hint of a smile on ozpins tired features.

"i understand. you will begin in two weeks from now, around the time when other students will arrive from the different academies, allowing you to blend in relatively easily. i will have everything arranged for you by the time you start, and square things away with some of my allies, most notably the ones whom personally know of you. be aware, that i will be forced to maintain complete deniability if something goes wrong, and the less people who know of the plan then the better." ozpin explained carefully. springfield was half listening, and truthfully his mind was made up. even if ozpin said he had no chance at coming back alive, he still would have accepted the offer.

because he wasn't doing it for himself for a change.

 **oooh! excitement! remember to leave any reviews which you feel could help, or PM me for any suggestions I should make in the story. I'm gonna need them if our loveable anti-hero is on his way to beacon academy, spying on the spies! till next time!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey everybody welcome back to another chapter. I know a couple of you, just a small few may have been waiting for me to update this. well, for that I'm sorry. This chapters a culmination of a few months, adding bits and pieces here and there. all I can say is that if your reading this so far, thanks for the interest and support. feels good to know that people like your work, you know? anyway, hope everyone reading this enjoys the chapter, you think i can improve on anything or just wanna tell me how much I messed up, lemme know in a review or PM. it'd make my day if I'm being honest. cheers!**

 **chapter 5**

The snow was cold.

Yeah, I know. Pretty obvious. But then again, i never called myself a poet, or an author, or whoever the fuck comes up with eloquent meanings to bullshit things. I never called myself anything, in fact; that was other people's jobs.

True, I actually enjoyed a few of the names. The cool ones, like psycho, butcher, murderer. Some others… well, not so much. Maybe I enjoyed those names because I felt I had something to call my own, in some fucked up way. Perhaps it was because of the fact I wanted people to be afraid of me, to speak my name in fear as I walked around without a care in the world, letting people know that behind that stone cold persona, there was a heart of ice.

Or, maybe I just thought it sounded cool.

Whichever way you look at it, it wasn't gonna help me in my currently fucked up situation. Said situation being me, hiding behind a snow bank, in the atlesian snow lands, in the middle of the fucking winter, wearing nothing but a pair of frozen combat boots, a tattered white military uniform, and wielding a golf club with my CO's brain matter still dangling off then end like a… like a…

Fuck! What is it with me and wordplay!?

I was jarred from my pointless ramblings by the crunching of snow beneath boots, just above my head. The powder made an almost creaking sound as it was compressed and hardened under the weight of a 160-pound soldier, currently under orders to locate and capture or kill yours truly. I have that kind of effect on people.

I glanced up, noting that the grunt hadn't spotted me yet. Looking at the guys patches, seemed that the fucker was from a different company to mine. Makes sense, wouldn't want any of my old drinking' buddies helping me out. The man gripped his rifle with his exposed fingers, brushing away the ice that had formed over his trigger. The metal was cold enough already, add that to the fact that his rifle was outside in the winter all added up to one soldier in a really bad mood, just waiting for something to happen so he could blow a couple fist sized holes in it with dust rounds, go back to camp, and fill his belly with heated rations and lungs with cigarette smoke. A considerable sized part of me wished that would happen. I wanted him to go back to his camp and continue his life as if he never met me. Because if he saw me, i didn't have a choice.

Which is why it became such a problem for me when the man looked down and saw me below him, our eyes locked in a cold stare, waiting for the other to make the first move. I did, of course. I always make the first move.

My fists shot out, grabbing at the closest part of his body available to me; his ankles. With a quick burst of strength, i pulled with all my might, bringing his legs out from under him and sending him tumbling down the bank, skidding to a stop next to me. He was on his feet quicker than i expected, swinging his rifle round in the hopes of ending the fight quickly. I swung at the barrel of his weapon, sending it off course as a few shots were fired, surely alerting nearby men to our location. I would have to wrap this up quick.

With his gun batted out the way, i leapt forwards and brought my right hook across his jaw, sending him onto the ground, his crimson blood beautifully contrasting with the ghostly white snow. I didn't give him the chance to recuperate from his sudden loss of balance, i didn't afford him the mercy of a fair fight. Instead, i leapt on his stunned body on the ground and hammered fist after fist into his face, punch after punch breaking all available bones.

After about 10 seconds of this onslaught, he stopped fighting back.

After about 30 seconds, his body lay limp.

After about a minute, the face was an unrecognizable mass of swollen blood and flesh, bruises and blood littered his entire head, making identification impossible. A small voice in the back of my mind reminded me that more were coming, and that the threat was neutralised, i should run now whilst i still had the chance. But, the thing is, that was a small voice.

The rest of my head was telling me to butcher the poor bastard.

After a while, i can't remember how long… I stopped. I looked down at the soldier i didn't and never would know, and jumped to the side where i vomited the minute contents of my stomach. The delicate droplets of red on white were replaced by the sickly rich scarlet of both his blood and mine, polluting the crisp and refined landscape in an ocean of blood. I heard the sounds of dogs barking in the distance, men shouting commands, a few voices mind snapped out of its temporary moment of weakness, jumping back into survival mode. I leapt forward and rummaged through his pockets, grabbing any useful supplies. Matches, canteen, rations, ammunition.

I even made a move to pry the boots of his frozen feet, slipping off his body with a strangely satisfying pop. finally, i grabbed his rifle and slung the loop over my back, sparing a quick look back at the corpse before sprinting off into the nearby treeline. The rest of the next few weeks passed like a blur. I slowly stopped seeing as many patrols, the men assigned to hunt me were the rookies and recruits, less trained, easier to evade. It helped that i hadn't had to kill any of them either.

I don't know why it sticks in my mind, why it refuses to budge from the labyrinth which is my memory, but that soldiers face sticks with me. What i do know however, is that his face, among all the other features and notable things that graced him, is the only thing about him that has stayed with me.

Well, that and the boots that still reside on my feet.

Springfield brought his gaze back up from his boots and the floor, ending his flashbacks and daydreaming, and back to his acceptance of reality.

Surprise surprise, reality was dull.

He'd been waiting on the airstrip for 20 minutes, smoking a cigarette and watching the skies for the transport scheduled to take him and his 'fellow vacuo students' to beacon academy; one of the greatest combat schools to ever grace remnant, the pride of vale! Or something along those lines. Springfield wasn't into that whole 'pride' crap, meant to make the people feel safe in their meaningless, everyday lives. No, he focused on the finer things.

Like, for example, the very interesting debate taking place in front of him between two vacuo students, arguing about which band produced the better music. One boasted about how the 'achieve men' were the greatest musicians to grace remnant since some band called the 'beowulfs'. The other retorted, screeching about how faunhaus, the all Faunus band from mistral were "like, sooo much more original!"

Springfield listened with interest, biding his time and waiting for the airship to arrive. Just as the conversation was getting interesting, he heard the low thrum of dust powered engines vibrating the air around him. Glancing up, he spotted the vehicle those engines belonged to making a descent onto the landing pad. With a sigh and a quick flick of the cigarette butt, he grabbed his small backpack of "school supplies" before wading his way through the crowds of excited teenagers and onto the relative comfort of the dustplanes observation deck.

Springfield leaned against the glass, hands digging into his pocket and gripping yet another cigarette and bringing it up to his mouth. His actions were thrown off track for a brief second however by a loud cough. Springfield glanced to his right, his eyes meeting those of a pretty, yet stern stewardess who simply pointed to a 'no smoking' sign rested on the wall to his left. The merc glanced back at the stewardess and locked his eyes with her gaze.

"Seriously?! 200 heavily armed hormonal teenagers with weapons and skills capable of mass destruction just walked on here, **unhindered** , and you're worried about me lighting a smoke?!" Springfield deadpanned in confusion, only to be met with a resolute stare from the lady. He sighed and placed the smoke back into his jacket.

"Fine. but just so you know, when one of these stupid kids blows a hole in the hull of this thing and we start to crash, I'm not gonna be the one to hand you a parachute!" He snapped, brushing past the lady and making his way towards the outside observation deck. Part of him felt guilty, acknowledging that the woman was doing her job and didn't deserve his tone. The other part of him however, the part fueled by nicotine, booze and testosterone wanted to cram an entire packet of smokes down her throat, watching her gag and choke before her eyes rolled back into her head…

Yeah… maybe he should see a psychiatrist…

He pondered on these depraved images for a few seconds as he made his way past the men's bathrooms, before his thoughts were interrupted and the door was flung open, a pair of hands grabbing him and dragging him into the enclosed space, back pressed up against the sink. Before he could figure out exactly what the fuck was going on, he was met with a rifle barrel held inches away from his face, an electrical discharge jumping off and snapping at the edges of his chin. Understanding the situation, springfield held up his hands casually, before analysing his surroundings, his eyes meeting a man in a red jacket with blue hair and goggles, and…

"SUN! Hey buddy! How you doing!" Springfield cheered with fake enthusiasm, his greeting met with a small pistol/nunchuck pointed under his chin.

"What are you doing here you traitor! Give me one good reason i shouldn't splatter your brains all over these bathroom walls!" Sun spat, genuinely angry, which was a far cry from his typical cheerful attitude. His blue-haired friend seemed to take note of this, glancing at the Faunus worriedly before uneasily setting his eyes back on the hostage.

"Because you're one of the good guys. You don't do stuff like that. If you did, I doubt you'd get to sleep at night. You ever actually kill anyone?" Springfield replied, meeting suns request with a question of his own. The ape Faunus snarled, letting his sharp teeth show, and bringing his fist back in an effort to throw a punch, before his wrist was grabbed by goggles.

"Whoa man, calm down! Who the hell is this guy anyway?" The blue haired boy asked in curiosity, wondering who this guy was to erase suns typical cocky demeanor.

"You gonna answer him sun, or should I?" Springfield asked eloquently, making sun level his glare back onto the merc.

"He's merc scum, that's who he is! Remember about two weeks ago, when i was in that fight down by the docks with the white fang? Well, this guy showed up and started helping out those terrorists! He's working with torchwick!" Sun explained, levelling his weapon back on Springfield. This time, the blue haired boy aimed his gun at the merc with much less hesitation, assured on the fact that this was one of "the bad guys".

"Sun, listen to me very carefully for the next few sentences. I don't work for torchwick, he's just an old contact. If i was working for him, don't you think i'd have escaped with him rather than sit in a police station for a few days?" Sun appeared unfazed, but his eyes did narrow as if considering Springfield's words. He decided to redouble his efforts.

"Besides, I've got a new contract now and you can be damn sure I'm not gonna break it. I'm on your side-" he almost finished his sentence before the gun was placed further into his neck, slightly cutting off his supply of air.

"You'll NEVER be on our side! don't even say it! You can say you're with us all you want, but it doesn't change the fact you're just a merc in it for the money!" Sun snapped, cutting off Springfield's speech and silencing him, who just listened patiently.

"I'm gonna assume you're telling the truth, and me and Neptune are gonna leave you alone." _so that's the guy's name.._ thought Springfield briefly, before tuning back into the conversation. "But just know, I'm keeping an eye on you. And if I see you step one foot outta line, or hurt any of my friends, I'll take you down MYSELF!" He finished, withdrawing his weapon and storming out of the bathroom, Neptune threw a quick, uneasy glance at the merc also, before retreating and following after his friend, slamming the door to the toilets shut on the way out.

Springfield sighed and pulled out his smokes in an attempt to calm his nerves. _Great, your not even at beacon yet and you've already made enemies. You should just leave the infiltration stuff down to those ninjas in those smut books…_ he resigned with a deep thought, before lighting his cigarette and taking a puff of the sweet nicotine, fueling his addiction.

Suddenly, a loud smoke alarm began blaring and a set of sprinklers popped from the ceiling, extinguishing his cigarette and drenching him. He could hear the same happening outside, masses of students all shrieking at the sudden onslaught of water. He even heard a rather loud screech of fright and screams from a voice that sounded a lot like suns friend from a few seconds earlier. Whatever the case, Springfield leaned his weight on the tiled bathroom wall, before sliding down and relaxing in the large puddle now forming all around him.

…

Ozpin considered himself to be a patient man. A man of dignity, who could stand tall in the face of overwhelming odds with a level head and an air of complete confidence. Still, he felt that his patience was slowly being pushed to the limit as team RWBY, JNPR and two vacuan students known as sun and Neptune argued in front of his desk.

"It's not fair! Nora started it! Why should we get punished for that!" Exclaimed the bubbly 15-year-old, known as ruby rose. Her teammates nodded in agreement, some more than others.

"I agree with ruby on this rare occasion. Whilst we were involved in the skirmish, we did not fire the first shots. As such we shouldn't be punished as severely for our actions." Weiss stated, her confident tone lining her elegant and proper pronunciation.

"Bullcrap! I didn't mean to hit Weiss, she got in the line of fire! And i didn't aim at her specifically, she jus-"

"Lies! Miss valkyrie sought to start a conflict in order to push her own political agenda!"

"My monarchy will last for a thousand years! You wanna go for round two ice queen!" Nora exclaimed, jumping atop her throne and cackling like a madwoman. Ren sighed in exhaustion before coercing nora down from her chair with the offer of pancakes and syrup if she remained quiet for the remainder of the lecture. Seeing this as an opportune moment to speak, ozpin opened his case.

"Do not be alarmed, students. You are not here as a reprisal for your actions earlier in the cafeteria, I'm leaving that down to Glynda" ozpin stated, earning painful groans and wails of sorrow from the two teams. Yang, surprisingly, caught on first.

"Wait a sec prof, if we're not here because of the food fight, then why are we here?" She asked in confusion, scratching her head and tilting it to the side.

As if on cue, the elevator doors to ozpin's office opened, revealing a lone man clad in a brown leather jacket, cargo pants and a pair of thick combat shoes. Upon realization of exactly who this guy was, some of the rooms occupants jumped up in shock, reaching for their weapons, sun in particular. Neptune followed his friend's example, lowering his rifle on the intruder. Blake, recognising the man from the docks who helped torchwick, withdrew gambol shroud and held it in its pistol form at the lone figure. Ruby followed suit, urging the two remaining members of RWBY to aid their team members efforts. JNPR, confused and not knowing who the new arrival was, kept their weapons holstered and instead looked uneasily between ozpin, the remaining students, and the mysterious figure. A few seconds of silence followed before the once silent blake spoke up, surprising the rooms occupants.

"What's he doing here?" She asked, leaking curiosity rather than contempt. Sun on the other hand radiated the opposite. "He was on the airship earlier, he's following us. For all we know, he's here to kill the professor!" Sun accused, ready to pounce on his acquaintance. This seemingly doubled the efforts of team RWBY, who were shocked at the very notion of an assailant bringing harm to their headmaster.

"Stand down team RWBY, you also Mr wukong" ozpin stated calmly. Sun stared back in shock at the headmaster's declaration

"But sir, he was working with torchwick, at the docks! How do we know he's not working for him now?" Blake asked, her eyes meeting ozpin's in confusion.

"Because i've hired him"

…

"So… we gonna address the whole… clock thing?" Springfield asked cautiously, the students eyeing him with a bemused expression to their faces. Springfield gestured to the rest of the room in a placating manner. "It's not just me who sees it as weird right? I mean how many clocks does one guy need?"

"Mr Springfield…" ozpin interrupted with a tired breath

"You're not a time traveller are you?"

"Please be quie-"

"I mean it's fine if you are, just putting it out ther-"

At this point, Glynda, who had been patiently standing behind ozpin, smacked her cane to the desk, effectively shutting Springfield up.

"Huh, guess we know who wears the pants in that relationship, right?" Springfield said, a cocky grin on his face as he reached a fist out to an extremely confused jaune for him to fist bump. "No? No fist bump? Okay, I'll get you later buddy" Springfield dismissed, waving him off. Springfield effectively stood to attention at the death stare Glynda was now giving him however.

"I wouldn't want to keep your teams too long, so I'll keep this brief…" ozpin trailed off, observing the individual reaction of all present individuals.

"I've hired mr Springfield here as added protection for the upcoming vytal festival and resulting tournament. He will be appearing as a student, which is why i must stress the importance of acting as if he were just another tournament goer" ozpin spoke, a sip from his mug following shortly after. Weiss looked as if she were preparing to ask a question, but was cut off by ozpin quickly stating for individuals to 'save their questions till the end.' "I realize that you may believe this to be an error on my part as headmaster, but i can assure you i have put the utmost thought and commitment into this decision." sensing that his speech was now over, Weiss raised her hand to ask their headmaster for answers. "Yes, miss Schnee?"

"Exactly who is this… man you've seemingly put so much faith in" Weiss asked, a look of shock and confusion labeling her face. Both ozpin and the mercenary in question attempted to answer this question, but were cut off as sun beat them to the punch.

"He's a coward, and a scumbag is what he is!" sun chipped in, rage altering his voice.

"Oooh… that's really something coming from a guy from vacuo" stated Springfield, a taunt lingering on his tone. This only worked to enrage the Faunus more, leading him to stand up and draw his weapon in anger. "You wanna go for round two buddy?!" he yelled, his angered demeanor contrasting with Springfield's calm, if not amused body language. "Was there even a round one?" Springfield asked a grin now plastering his face as sun started making his way over to Springfield.

"Mr wukong, control yourself!" snapped Glynda, her voice piercing the atmosphere and jarring sun to a halt, who proceeded to sit back down, an angered facade settling on his face. Springfield, who seemed to be chuckling at his enemies expense was quickly shut up by glynda's gaze for the second time that meeting, his military instincts once again kicking in and forcing him to attention. Ozpin seized the opportunity to dismiss the students.

"Unless you have any further questions, I would ask you all to return to your scheduled classes." some grumbled in frustration, others in confusion as they began making their way to the elevator, all of them somehow fitting in, despite the seemingly small space.

"miss rose? Mr Springfield? Please stay behind…" ozpin trailed off. Ruby glanced worriedly at her sister and team mates, before stepping out of the confines of the elevator and back into the office. Springfield had now seated himself at one of the vacant chairs near the desk, relaxing and beginning to light a cigarette

"Please, no smoking Mr Springfield". Ozpin said, a glare from the mercenary meeting him as he reluctantly put away the packet.

"So.. am I in trouble?" ruby asked, a slightly scared expression filling her face as she eyed Springfield warily. Ozpin chuckled before responding.

"No, miss rose. Quite the opposite in fact. I'm tasking you with showing our new guest here around the academy, warming him up to the rest of your teammates." ozpin explained in a calm voice. Springfield, on the other hand, offered another reaction entirely.

"Hey, time lord, you didn't say anything about a 14-year-old tour guide or 'socializing' with people. You and the kinky school teacher over there changing the deal on me?" Springfield said in annoyance, leaning forward on his chair. Ozpin returned his glare with a cold, malicious glare.

"I've altered the deal. Pray I do not alter it any further" he said, no more mirth lacing his voice. ' _Note to self'_ thought Springfield ' _avoid offending the blonde chick…'_ before sitting back, attempting to keep his facade up after the rather surprising display. Ozpin quickly calmed down once again, his tone becoming more explanatory.

"It is imperative that you appear as a student, remember that your mission isn't as simple as find the bad man and kill him. The eyes of the world are upon us, Mr Springfield, i would stress the importance of not drawing attention to yourself. Miss rose, do you think you could help in this task?" ozpin inquired, his eyes meeting the small, out of place feeling student.

"Ummm, yes? I think?" ruby cautiously squeaked, hesitation on her voice as she once again eyed the mercenary. Ozpin let a smile make its way onto his face.

"Excellent. You may leave" he dismissed, both ruby and Springfield standing and making their way to the elevator, the former of which walking ahead slightly faster. "Oh, and Mr Springfield?" ozpin said, attracting Springfield's attention and tenting his fingers on his desk in a cliche fashion which made Springfield mentally face palm. "Please remember, you're on watch" ozpin stated simply, send a small, barely noticeable shiver down the mercenaries spine.

But a shiver nevertheless.

Springfield stepped into the elevator with the considerably smaller ruby, the doors slowly closing. With the room now being empty apart from the two remaining occupants.

"I hope you know what you're doing ozpin." Glynda spoke up, worry lacing her tone.

Ozpin let out a heavy sigh, clutched his mug of coffee, and made his way to the window, eyeing the hundreds of students below.

"As do i…"

…

The doors of the elevator glided shut, and the grind of the gears permeated the small cubicle, the contraption lowering itself at a far too slow pace in ruby's opinion. ' _Okay ruby, just keep yours eyes ahead of you and maybe he won't speak to you'_ she thought.

"So… i know an elevator ride with potential criminal you had a had a small fight with in the past may seem like a terrifying thought, but look on the bright side! At least we don't have elevator mu-"

His sentence however was cut off as elevator music, surely composed by a soulless madman filled the small box. Springfield sighed and continued his sentence.

"I lied. There is no bright side."

Surprisingly, this brought a small laugh from ruby. ' _Well, at least he's got a sense of humour'_ she thought, glancing to her right at the man standing to her side. The mercenary was now pulling a lighter and a cigarette out of his pocket. Ruby cleared her throat and spoke up, albeit with a small, nervous tone.

"Ummm, i- I don't think you're allowed to smoke in elevators Mr Springfield." came a small voice. Springfield eyed the girl to his left, the worried look on her face. Then he glanced down at his unlit cigarette. ' _Ugh why the fuck do i have to have a conscience?'_ he thought, before putting away both cigarette and lighter, muttering words that weren't suitable for the ears of a 15-year-old.

"I'm only holding off for your personal health, kid. Don't really give a crap about 'school rules'" he muttered, even throwing in some quotation marks with his fingers and a mock face. Ruby, for the most part, did not know how to feel about the felons statement.

"hey! School rules are important! They aid in maintaining a safe and hospitable learning environment!" ruby stated, almost as if rehearsing a line.

"You reading of a script or something kid?" Springfield chuckled, eyeing her with a hint of humour. Ruby, in turn was overtaken by a small blush as she averted her eyes from the mercenaries gaze.

"Well… sort off. That's what my partner Weiss always says, and she shouts at me and calls me a dunce when i act like a kid" she paused, putting a finger to her lip, her tongue slightly peeking out her mouth, and her gaze looking into the sky in a ruby approved thinking pose. "She shouts at me a lot now that i think about it…"

"You know what kid, you're in the wrong line of work being a huntress. WAY too innocent for half the shit out there..." Springfield said wisely, shaking his head in disappointment. Ruby visibly shuffled, her thoughtful expression turning into one of curious anger.

"I'm not a kid!" she exclaimed, her knuckles clenching, and unconsciously standing on her toes in an effort to seem taller. Springfield looked at her with a pained expression. "That's a shame. Being a kid was probably the best thing that ever happened to me…" Springfield said, his tired tone effectively ending the conversation for a few seconds. Springfield sighed in frustration and looked around. ' _How long is this goddamn elevator gonna take!?'_

Ruby, afraid she had ended the conversation with what was to hopefully be her newest friend, started a conversation again. The only way she knew how. Springfield suddenly felt a great weight lifted from his waist, and turned in frustration, annoyed at the fact that a 15-year-old just had the nerve to take his big iron from his holster. His frustration turned to curiosity quickly however, as he saw the sense of fascination in her eyes.

"Whoa… I've never seen a gun like this before! Especially not one so heavy for its size! What exactly is the weight ratio in comparison to its stopping power?! How about the bullet caliber, do you use a high-quality dust propellant?! What does it turn int-" her incessant ramblings were cut off however as the merc swiped the gun away again, spinning its chamber before twirling it in his hands and slotting it swiftly back into the holster. Ruby's eyes, almost impossibly grew even larger in wonder. ' _Wow, she must really like weapon- is she drooling right now?!'_

"Hey kid, usually a chick drools at me like that it's a good thing, but I don't want that kind of rep" Springfield said warily, ruby's semi-comatose state suddenly replaced with a furious blush, a quick mumble of interrupted apologies and explanations flowing out of her mouth faster than Springfield could comprehend. Eventually, the huntress in training composed herself, and focused again on trying to start a less pervy line of questions.

"So… that's pretty heavy for a pistol…" she trailed off, hoping the merc to explain. He rolled his eyes in response before continuing.

"Yeah, well heavy is good. Heavy is reliable. If it doesn't work you can always hit someone with it…" he stated, almost as if quoting.

"Ummm I'm not sure weight is a sign of reliability"

"Look at it this way red. Some people argue that the best weapons are the ones you don't have to fire. Others say it's the ones you only have to fire once. Way i see it, this does both, because either you don't wanna fuck with the guy with the huge gun, or your not gonna survive the first shot" Springfield explained, a smirk gracing his feature before patting the trusty sidearm. Ruby was once again interested.

"Wait, so that kills a Grimm in on shot!?" she said, eyes full of wonder. Springfield grinned and looked back at her, a sadistic look in his eye.

"Who said anything about Grimm?"

Before ruby could question hi, the elevator doors finally opened and Springfield quickly walked out, leaving ruby speechless and trying to wrap her head around what he meant. Then she came to the realisation that she was meant to be showing the mercenary around.

"Hey! Wait up! I'm supposed to be your tour guide!"

 **Aaaaand that concludes this edition. chapter 5 out the way and done with. if your currently seething in rage, really enjoyed it, or anything in between, feel free to leave a review, favourite, follow, PM, any really. hey, it'd make my day and maybe I could help make yours too. enjoy the rest of your day, cheers all.**


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